


Revealing By Design

by salutationtothestars



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Assassin's Creed References, Cosplay, Established Relationship, M/M, Making Out, Nipples, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 17:37:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11972304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salutationtothestars/pseuds/salutationtothestars
Summary: In time, Ignis supposed he might grow accustomed to the feeling of… undress. After all, Gladio could rarely be persuaded to put a shirt on at all, and he seemed to neither invite nor discourage any level of scrutiny. Perhaps Ignis might never attain his comfort level, but he could at least let the embarrassment recede to a benign background radiation. Gladio, however, was part of the problem.





	Revealing By Design

The sound of piping flutes and the steady, driving beat of drums slowly faded into the distance as Ignis left Lestallum’s teeming square. He slipped between groups of festivalgoers with a practiced ease, by this point quite accustomed with the concept of assimilating into a crowd. It was the only way to survive outside Lucis, especially since the Empire was consistently hot on Noctis’s heels. In theory, he ought to have felt more at ease here than anywhere else they had visited – surrounded by people in silly costumes, who would notice another prat dressed for the occasion? No one present seemed to mind him at all. Some of the men thronging about him wore traditional Assassin garb mixed with faded jeans and sandals, for pity’s sake. Still, he felt it impossible to relax.

For one thing, never in his life had he worn so little clothing in public. Though Lestallum felt as oppressively hot as ever, the occasional breeze wound its way through her alleyways and brushed intimately across the exposed backs of his legs. Such caresses were never expected, and each time they startled him into thinking someone might be taking deeply offensive liberties. The worst of it was his half-bare chest. Ignis felt intimately aware of his nakedness, and avoided the eyes of everyone he passed in the hopes that he was the only one who would mind it.

In time, he supposed he might grow accustomed to the feeling of… undress. After all, Gladio could rarely be persuaded to put a shirt on at all, and he seemed to neither invite nor discourage any level of scrutiny. Perhaps Ignis might never attain his comfort level, but he could at least let the embarrassment recede to a benign background radiation.

Gladio, however, was part of the problem.

Though Ignis never turned to look, he knew his friend prowled behind him. The steady slap of Gladio’s sandals seemed to thunder above the dwindling music, pounding an arrhythmic pattern as he followed in his wake. They no doubt presented as a unit to any onlooker. Not only were they dressed in the same absurd get up, but Gladio walked so closely that if Ignis so much as paused, he would assuredly run into the back of him. Yet as they walked, he never spoke. Instead, Ignis felt a heated stare burning the back of his head, so much like fire he felt sparks of magic tingle through his fingers in response.

Someone who did not know Gladio might call it “stalking,” casting him as a hunter trailing mindless prey through the streets. Ignis had been hunted before, by man and beast, and he never found it a particularly pleasing sensation. No, he knew what this was. Gladio never took anything from Ignis without asking beforehand, not even these steps. At any moment, he could turn around and call an end to this excursion, or change the rules of the game. He could demand privacy, or confide his unease and retreat to the Leville to change into something more sensible.

He had no urge to do any of these things.

Before several minutes had passed, no festival attendees remained on the street save a handful in transit, some apparently on their way home to bed. It had to be approaching midnight. On reflex, Ignis lifted his arm to check his watch. “Blast,” he muttered.

“Forgot about the bracer, huh?”

Ignis heard the smile in Gladio’s voice before he saw it. His friend had paused one stride behind him, head cocked slightly as he stole a less than subtle glance up and down. Gladio had no business looking as good as he did, especially not when Ignis felt so unbelievably foolish. Perhaps it was the rugged scars that did it for him, or the way his legs seemed to bulge and flare beneath the draped fabric serving as his belt. In any case, Ignis could feel his face already flushing. If asked, he would blame it on the heat.

“Yes, well,” he said, pushing his glasses further up his nose, “I have yet to… acclimatize, as it were.”

Gladio hummed. “It’s after eleven, if you were wondering. Last I checked, anyway. Seems like this thing runs late.”

Lestallum always ran late – a twenty-four-hour city, not that unlike Insomnia. Ignis saw his point, though. Usually, the nightlife predominately consisted of women just off their shift at the power plant. Tonight, he’d even seen children running amok, wearing homemade costumes and slick Assassin-style hooded jackets. Doubtless they received a reprieve from school during the festival. Just the thought of Noctis shirking his studies for so extended a period as a boy threatened to give him a headache.

Slowly, as if without purpose, Gladio casually strode in Ignis’s direction. His muscles tensed in unpleasant surprise. Surely Gladio would not attempt anything here, in the open – but then he walked past him, gently brushing their arms together as a sign that he should follow.

“I gotta say,” he threw over his shoulder, “kind of weird that these people go so hard for a kid’s game.”

“It certainly is not for children,” Ignis retorted. “I’ve seen enough of it to confirm as much. In any case, I believe the festival’s connection to the video game series is largely coincidental. Did Holly not explain the history to you?”

“Sort of. I wasn’t really listening, to be honest. Found myself a bit distracted. Lots to look at.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow. “Indeed?”

“Sure. Games, prize booths, death defying stunts, Galahdian food? All pretty interesting. Outfits ain’t always half bad, either, even if the source material seems pretty ridiculous. Who’d play a game about assassins?”

Gladio led him through a well-lit but deserted alleyway, past closed doors and the sad, stepped-on remains of posters and confetti. After all the noise, silence felt overwhelming, but neither did Ignis want to draw any unwanted attention. He spoke in half an undertone, watching the windows for signs of movement. His caution was likely unnecessary, but spending much of one’s time on the run created life-saving habits. Any moment he faltered might become his last.

“Noctis and Prompto endeavored to explain the series to me more than once, in great detail. While some of its concepts are outlandish, the basis it maintains in history and concrete fact helps ground its more unusual aspects. You would likely enjoy it.”

“Yeah,” Gladio chuckled. “I’ll get to it in our copious amounts of spare time. Besides, _King’s Knight_ is about all I can handle, so far as games go. If I’ve got the chance to relax, I’d rather be reading.”

“There are novelizations.”

At that, Gladio stopped, shooting him a bemused look. A block or so on, the alley terminated in a dead end, clustered with pipes and overflowing garbage bins. The residential area seemed to terminate as well, most of the homes located nearer the narrow pathway’s mouth. No one would come this way, not unless they were lost. Ignis doubted Gladio brought them here by accident.

“They wrote books based on these games? Seriously?”

“They did,” Ignis said, a bit hotly. It was difficult not to feel somewhat defensive. “I read one of them.”

Gladio split the quiet with a full-bodied laugh, certainly loud enough to attract attention. Already a bit peeved at being made fun of, Ignis mentally wadded up his plans to maintain a covert, inconspicuous profile and imagined himself throwing them into one of the bins. He folded his arms.

“I’ll admit, the writing left something to be desired,” he continued, raising his voice to be heard over Gladio’s amusement, “but the story was interesting, and I felt the main character more than made up for any lack in–”

Gladio abruptly reached out and took Ignis’s arm just above his elbow, holding him in place as he stepped closer. The heat against his naked skin sent a shiver racing up his spine. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. “I didn’t come here to argue with you,” Gladio said quietly, still grinning. “I came here because I wanted you to myself, for a minute.”

Ignis found it difficult to process anything but Gladio’s thumb, pressed softly into the vulnerable skin at the back of his upper arm. After so many years, he was no stranger to his friend’s touch – whether platonic or otherwise, Gladio had always been free with his physical affection. Still, on most days, nary a strip of Ignis’s skin below his neck was easily available. Any such intimacy had to wait until they were alone together, after Ignis shed several layers of clothing.

Suddenly, awareness of the state of his dress came crashing back around him. If he hadn’t blushed earlier, he was certainly blushing now.

“That was painfully obvious,” he said, once he unstuck his tongue. He still felt rather indignant, though he doubted it would last in the full face of Gladio’s charm. “And you picked this place, rather than the clean, furnished hotel, because…?”

Gladio shrugged. “We both wound up here, you tell me. Anyway, can’t tell when the other two will want to call it for the night. Their excitement will wear off eventually.”

When had Ignis set his hand on Gladio’s chest? He couldn’t remember, too focused on the raised, red line of his scar and the way it felt under his fingertips. Scraping his blunted nails down, carefully, he stopped at the leather strap holding the faux-faded cloth masquerading as a shirt to his torso.

“Personally, I’d rather risk the chance of discovery than that of catching my death in a back alley.”

“Come on, Iggy, you’re killing me. Do you want to argue, or do you want to make out?”

If he could only pick one, he knew which it would be. Ignis grabbed the back of Gladio’s neck and dragged him down, pulling him into a hard, fervid kiss.

Gladio herded him against the wall, ducking to press open-mouthed, wet kisses underneath his jaw. Grabbing at what exposed skin he could, Ignis marveled at how frustrating it was to not have full access to the scope of his chest. Even the nature of the – coattails? – made it impossible for him to reach Gladio’s ass with anything less than mutual participation, and his partner seemed rather busy at the moment. He groaned, both from annoyance and the effect of the ministrations on his neck, and threaded his fingers through Gladio’s hair.

Hips juddered unexpectedly against his, a maddening facsimile of pressure that disappeared again all too quickly. Gladio pulled back and touched his forehead to Ignis’s, sharing his breath.

“You have no idea,” he panted, roughly dragging a hand along his side so that Ignis felt the touch against each rib, “how hot you look in this stupid thing. When Holly brought ‘em out, I thought… dumb-looking, goofy shit… could’ve kissed her once I saw it on…”

“Thankfully you didn’t,” Ignis said, darting forward for a quick kiss of his own. He missed his lips in his haste, but rectified the mistake soon enough.

A firm thumb swiped across Ignis’s exposed nipple. He gasped into Gladio’s open mouth.

“This is my favorite part.”

Ignis wanted to ask if he meant the costume, or of Ignis in general. As he rolled the nipple between his thumb and a finger, tugging so hard he fairly whimpered with the pleasure of it, he found he didn’t care what the answer was.

“That’s it,” he said, pushing Gladio backward. “We’re going to the hotel.”

The hurt expression budding on Gladio’s face quickly changed to a self-satisfied smirk. “Got you worked up, huh, Mr. Discipline? What if Noct and Prompto show up demanding to be let in?”

“They have their own gil, let them rent their own room. Would you like to argue with me, Gladiolus, or would you rather have sex?”

“Sex,” Gladio said. He reeled Ignis in for a final, languid kiss, one hand around his neck and one dipping beneath the cloth to trace a straight line down his abdominal muscles. The heat of his breath fogged Ignis’s glasses. “Definitely the sex.”

Ignis nearly expected the amount of noise they’d been making to have attracted attention, sliding his eyes from shutter to shutter as he searched for eyes staring back. He found none, which was nothing short of a relief. As aware of his bare skin as he’d been earlier, within very little time he would undoubtedly be marked in several of the places Gladio touched him, and that was not something he wanted to share with the world.

“Hey.” Gladio’s hand brushed his own, their fingers tangling together without Ignis’s forethought or permission. Typically, they refrained from such displays where others might see, but the warmth of the broad, callused palm pressed against his own made Ignis reconsider pulling away. There was no one around to observe them, anyway.  “Why’d you read that book? Promise I won’t laugh at you again.”

“I purchased it for Noct as a birthday gift, three years ago. I thought he would find it interesting, but inevitably, it ended up in my possession more often than not. It made for a pleasant, mindless read when I needed it.”

“Thought you knew a lot about it for somebody with just second-hand knowledge. You’re still full of surprises.”

Ignis smiled. “I did always fancy myself something of a renaissance man.”

**Author's Note:**

> I needed fic about Ignis's exposed nipple and it didn't look like anybody else was going to do it just yet, so. I did it. Some festival, huh.
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr @ salutationtothestars.


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